


Chasing Nightmares

by blustersquall



Series: Fenris x Kestrel Hawke [5]
Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age - Various Authors, Dragon Age 2, Dragon Age II
Genre: Couple, F/M, NSFW, Nightmares, Sex, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-08
Updated: 2014-11-08
Packaged: 2018-02-24 15:38:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2586809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blustersquall/pseuds/blustersquall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One-shot. After he killed Danarius, Fenris had hoped his nightmares would go away. But its never that simple, because while Danarius no longer haunts his dreams, his nights are not peaceful as he would have wished when the threat of Knight-Commander Meredith and Tranquility loom over his lovers head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chasing Nightmares

Knight-Commander Meredith cut an imposing figure even across the courtyard of the Gallows and through throngs of people. The sun glaring off her golden crown of office creating an almost ethereal halo of light around the woman's head, as if at that moment she truly had been blessed by the Maker.

Flanked by four Templars, the assembled crowd part to allow the Templar leader through. Fenris watches from a safe distance, his eyes straining. The figure walking a few paces ahead of the Knight-Commander keeps his gaze and attention fixed. Something stirs inside him and he has the distinct feeling he knows them.

"Here, Kirkwall." Meredith's voice rises above the din of conversation and immediately those in the audience go silent. She, the Templars with her and the dark haired woman in front of her stop in the centre of the Gallows on temporary wooden platform, elevated several feet above everyone so those watching have a chance for a good view.

"See your Champion in her rightful place." Meredith's voice is triumphant as she speaks. She draws her blade and nudges the black haired figure in the back with the point of it. Obediently, the person kneels and a small gasp rises up from the crowd. "On her knees before her betters. Made safe as all mages should be, Champion no more." Meredith's lips curl into a sneer, "neither is she fit to hold the title Serah Hawke."

Suddenly Fenris knows her, and his can feel his chest constrict.

He wades through the crowd, pushing people aside before he's realised his legs are moving. He has one hand around the hilt of his blade at his back but he knows he will not draw it.

Eyes of those gathered turn to him and he can feel the Knight-Commander watching him as he climbs onto the platform. She gives a specific, subtle gesture to the Templars, an indication not to attack him. She can see he is no threat. Not now.

Kneeling in front of her, Fenris swallows thickly. His throat has closed and he can barely pull air into his lungs.

Her long black hair has been cut short, ending just below her ears. It is shorter than he has ever seen it and it looks strange. Her posture is stooped, hunched and practically submissive. And her clothes are different too. She wears a robe in Chantry colours, emblazoned with the symbol of the Chantry on it.

He touches her face hesitantly, lifting her chin.

Hazel eyes, that had once been laughing and glittered, that had looked at him once with adoration and love, now stare into him, dull and lifeless. The symbol of the sun is imprinted onto her forehead and Fenris brushes his thumb across it slowly.

He bites back the threat of a sob, but his tears come as he leans his forehead against hers. Even her skin doesn't feel as warm as it once was to him.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs, "I'm so sorry..." He grits his teeth tightly together, stifling another cry. "This shouldn't have..." He looks into her eyes again, brushing his fingers through her hair. "Kestrel, please. Still be in there, come back to me."

She stares at him wordlessly, she blinks but her expression remains still.

"Why are you crying?" He only just hears her above the sound of his heart beat throbbing in his ears. Her voice is dull and holds no emotion, it doesn't sound like her. It's like someone else using her body to speak.

Kestrel tilts her head. "Who are you?" Her question cuts through him and he feels it as keenly as he would feel a blade slicing through his flesh. His whole being turns cold, like ice spreading through his veins.

"I should have protected you." Fenris says. He's shaking, his whole body trembling from head to foot. "I should have--"

"Protected me?" Kestrel repeats. "Protected me from what?" She rises a hand and touches his face. A sensation he once used to relish, now makes his skin crawl. "Do you know me?"

Fenris nods. He can't speak anymore. His voice throat has closed up and he can feel bile rising from his stomach. Touching his forehead to hers, something that had once been a sign of affection for them, lets out a shaking breath.

He reaches into his belt. He keeps a small blade concealed there and wraps his hand around the hilt.

Death is better than this, he tells himself as he plunges the blade through Kestrel's chest.

Death is better than this, he repeats watching the pain register across her face and then her body slump in front of him.

Death is better than this, he concludes, watching as Meredith's face contorts in rage, her prize taken from her. Her flanking Templars unsheathe their blades and Fenris puts up no fight as the first touch of cold metal pierces his skin.

 

* * *

 

 

He wakes gasping and cold with sweat. His white hair plastered to his forehead, his legs tangled in the sheets holding him down to the mattress, confining and trapping him.

He can feel his heart slamming against his rib cage, hard and fast. His markings burn, and he can see the recesses of light from them where they must have been ignited as he dreamt.

The fire in the hearth is nearly dead, only a meagre amount of light coming from it. Fenris can see Kestrel's mabari absorbing as much warmth from the dying flames as possible. The fire light is welcome as it chases away his nightmare.

Rubbing his hands across his face, Fenris swallows air rapidly to try and fill his lungs. As fast as he breathes, he feels like he will never catch his breath. Panic still ripples through him, forcing his body to shake and tremble.

When he feels a hand on his arm, he jumps and flinches, practically throwing the limb away from him.

Kestrel rises and sits with him, well versed in nursing him through nightmares.

She lets him see her hands and what they're doing, moving slowly and deliberately so not to surprise him. She takes one of his hands in hers and lays it against her chest. Breathing slow she looks at him with alert, hazel eyes never wavering from his as she coaxes him to follow her breathing.

Her other hand rises to his head and she brushes her fingers through his hair, curling strands around his ear, touching her thumb to his cheek bone and gently, rhythmically stroking.

"It's alright," she soothes, as her thumb wipes away tears that Fenris can feel still damp on his skin. "Fenris, it's alright... it's just us."

His breaths slow and he clenches his vacant hand in his lap, cursing himself.

"Danarius is dead, he cannot hurt you." Kestrel reminds him, she leans her forehead against his temple, her long dark hair spilling over her shoulders. "You are safe."

"It wasn--" Fenris's voice trembles along with his body and he shakes his head, trying to force the words out. "It wasn--" He can't speak. He fists his hair suddenly, curling in on himself. Away from Kestrel. Away from his nightmare. Away from his fear.

He's crying before he realises it, tears spilling from his eyes and easing along his nose, dripping onto the covers pooled in his lap. He clutches at his hair, digging his fingernails into his scalp, using the sharp pain to ground himself.

Kestrel drapes him in a spare blanket they keep at the end of his bed and wordlessly wraps her arms around him, resting her cheek on his shoulder. She smooths her hands along his limbs regularly, warming him through the blanket.

Fenris knows she could easily make the fire burn big and hot again, but she's more sensitive than that. He needs her there, needs to feel her arms and hear her breathing, and be able to smell her. And Kestrel wordlessly - selflessly - complies with his unspoken request.

She says nothing, only shushes him with a soft voice beside his ear. And envelopes him in her hands, her arms and her warmth until he's relaxed enough to draw his hands away from his hair and drop them into his lap.

When he raises his eyes to look at her, he expects to see pity and disgust but, as always, he is surprised by the concern and love he can see reflected back at him. He knows the disgust he expects is what he feels towards himself, a deep seated sense of loathing and self-hatred that he is gradually learning to unburden himself of.

Kestrel asks him no questions, she has sat up with him through more than a handful of nightmares to know that he will talk when he is ready.

"It wasn't Danarius." Fenris tells her when he is finally calm enough and has strength enough to speak. He wonders how long ago had he been trying to speak? Ten minutes? Twenty? An hour? "It was... something else." He touches Kestrel's forehead tentatively, shifting her hair away so he can see her bare skin. He presses the pads of his fingers to the centre of her head and is relieved when he can neither see or feel a brand.

He doesn't need to give his nightmare a name or more details than that. He can see the recognition and understanding in Kestrel's expression as she takes his hand and links their fingers. She kisses the back of his hand and smooths her thumb across his knuckles.

"I am me, Fenris." She tells him, locking her gaze with his. "I'm here with you. I love you." His stomach squirms pleasurably hearing those words from her, meant for his ears only. She gently leans her forehead on his, her skin is warm and familiar. "I am yours. Meredith cannot touch me."

He likes the idea that she is safe from Meredith's clutches. That her money, her estate and her position of Champion keep her safe from the Knight-Commander's stifling grip, but he has seen the Templars. He has witnessed them standing watch near Kestrel's home - its why they spend their nights in his mansion instead. He knows how they track her movements, who she speaks to and what she does. That every thing she does is reported back to Meredith and how the Knight-Commander is just _waiting_ for Kestrel to put a hair wrong.

He has seen how it drains on Kestrel. How she is bound by fear and by concern for her own safety as well as the safety of her companions to be more amenable to the Knight-Commander's demands. She wants to help the mages, wants to help Anders but it's too dangerous. She is at too great a risk.

"She's just waiting for an opportunity." Fenris mumbles, averting his gaze away from Kestrel for a moment, "to put you in the Circle. To make you Tranquil."

"I know." Kestrel sighs. "And I know what you're going to say." She touches his face and draws his gaze back to her as she speaks, "but I'm a mage. I would be no better than Meredith if I abandoned other mages to her delusion and tyranny."

"They are not your responsibility, Kestrel." Fenris reminds her. They have had this argument countless times, and they have never reached a conclusion they both agree on.

"Mages in the Circle here are citizens of Kirkwall." Kestrel remarks, "I wouldn't be much of a Champion if I only looked out for those who did not have magic."

"This isn't something you can be flippant about." Says Fenris sharply, though his words are half-hearted through tiredness and the repetition of this disagreement.

Kestrel gently brushes her fingers across the contours of his face, tracing her fingertips across his cheek and the bridge of his nose, over his forehead, along the shell of his ear and over his lips. It's her touch he loves, the tingle of her mana seeking out the lyrium in his flesh that accompanies the glide of her skin on his.

"I cannot stand the thought of losing you." Fenris admits, suddenly, kissing the tips of her fingers as they trail across his lips and cupid's bow.

Her hand drops. "You won--"

"No." He cuts her off, his voice heavy with emotion, "you don't understand. Do you truly fathom the depth of my... feelings... for you?"

Kestrel sits back a little, her expression a mixture of surprise and curiosity. "You've never out right said you love me, but you don't need to tell me. I know you're not particularly forth-coming with your emotions."

"Allow me to give you some clarity." Fenris takes a long breath, settling himself. He is not one to be open about his feelings, it is not something that comes naturally to him and even now his fear of rejection threatens to close his throat.

"Kestrel, I would... in my nightmare, _seeing_ you like that," he focuses on his hands, "I have never felt anything like it. It was as if the world was suddenly crumbling away from me under foot. I felt helpless."

He does not know why he has chosen _now_ of all moments, to admit to her the extent of his feelings. Perhaps it is the nightmare prompting him with the truth of how easily he could lose her. Maybe the tiredness, or that he feels comfortable enough in his own mansion with her, in the quietness of the pre-dawn light that filters through the windows and the hole in the ceiling to be vulnerable.

"The way I feel about you... I never thought I could feel for anyone. Let alone a mage. If I lost you, I would have nothing left to live for." Fenris explains, too terrified of his own honesty to look at her.

"That isn't true." Kestrel shakes her head, smiling kindly.

"It is." Rebuffs Fenris, lifting his gaze. "Please, don't make light of this."

He is frightening her, he knows. She uses humour to deflect only when she is frightened or out of her depth, he knows her well enough to know her defences. "I would follow you into the Void itself to keep you safe and away from harm."

"Fenris, you're scaring me." Kestrel murmurs. He can see her eyes watering, and a droplet trickles down her cheek. He quickly wipes it away with his thumb and brushes his lips against her forehead. His turn to soothe her fears. "You're not allowed to talk like this, you're not going to throw yourself on your sword to protect me. You can't."

"Kestrel--"

"You can't." She snaps, and she glares at him, her mouth drawn into a straight line. "I've lost enough. Losing you-- I couldn't--"

He wraps her in his arms and lies back, pulling her with him, tucking her head beneath his chin. He kisses her hair and strokes his fingers down her back, following the curve of her spine.

"No more talk like this," Kestrel tells him with a weak authority. "Neither of us are going to die." She insists, wrapping her leg up over his hips and kneeling above him. "Neither of us." She kisses him fiercely, slipping her tongue passed his open lips and into his mouth. Her fingers tangle into his hair and Fenris rumbles incomprehensively into her mouth.

Between stolen breaths and intense, hot kisses, Fenris rolls them to be on top of her, one knee between her legs parting them. Her mouth is on his, frantic and demanding, burning breath and uneven sighs amid brief moments where they are parted. Kestrel's arms encircle him, her hands cling to him like she's afraid he'll drift away. He digs his fingers into the bare flesh of her thighs tugging down her underwear roughly.

The care of their usual love-making is absent, the night and their emotions have left them both feeling raw and vulnerable. Now is all about feeling and touching, and an indescribable need to be as close as physically possible.

Her bed shirt is gone, somewhere on the floor, along with his underclothes.

Fenris roughly bites at the soft mounds of her breasts as he enters her. Her heat is slick and tight, warm and familiar around him as he drives into her slowly. His toes tear into the sheets as he grips her thigh in one hand, and pulls her hair back with the other, devouring every delicious sound she makes into his mouth

She clutches his sides, biting his shoulder when the need for air forces their mouths to part. Rising her hips to meet his, Fenris increases his speed, and thrusts into her harder. He touches her core with each stroke, creating sparks behind her eyelids. Her head back on the pillow, Kestrel kisses him desperately, her hands wrapped behind the back of his head. Her thighs clench around his hips, urging him deeper.

Fenris touches his forehead to Kestrel's as he thrusts and strokes erratically. His breathing is ragged, and he can't concentrate beyond the sound of her and the heat of her surrounding him.

The lyrium in his skin pulsates and burns when he comes inside her, white dots decorate the edges of his vision. Her name is a strangled and strained word, ripped from him. He can feel her mana fizzling around him, the two essences drawing energy from each other, not unlike himself and Kestrel.

He remains inside her as he nestles against her breasts, kissing her chest wrapping her up in his arms. Kestrel knots her fingers through his hair tickling nape of his neck. She stares up at the ceiling, chasing her breath.

Fenris can still feel the fear of earlier, that it is still there, haunting the back of his mind and twisting in the deepest pit of his stomach, but it has been abated for the moment by their talk and their physical closeness. He listens to her catching her breath, to her heart beat. He watches tiny particles of dust filter through the shafts of dawn light.

"I love you." Kestrel tells him, speaking softly. He tilts his head back to see her, resting his chin on her clavicle. Hazel eyes look down at him, open, honest and swimming with adoration as her fingers trail across his ear.

Fenris rises onto his elbows and leans up so he lies above her, his face an inch from hers. His eyes wander her face, imprinting her image into his mind. Though he sees her every day, it is moments like this where she is unguarded and displays her most vulnerable state to him that he adores her the most, that he keeps with him on dark and cold nights.

"I know." He kisses her, long and deep and heartfelt, conveying what he feels but is too afraid to say as best as he can. The smile that graces her lips is all the confirmation he needs to know she understands.

Fenris slips out of her and Kestrel rolls onto her side, her back curled into his chest. Fenris pulls the blankets up over them, and smothers her in his embrace, breathing in the scent of her skin and her hair. Their legs tangle together, and Kestrel hugs his top hand to her chest, kissing his finger tips.

He vows to himself in silence of his mansion, with only the sounds of their breathing breaking it, that Meredith will never touch her, never harm her - will never have the chance to - as long as he draws breath, no matter what it might mean for himself.

 


End file.
